


Predatory

by salishseaselkie



Series: From Within Our Broken Hearts [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Groping, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Switching, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:37:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5783974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salishseaselkie/pseuds/salishseaselkie





	Predatory

Rylen came back late from his patrol, and had he arrived any later, Esther might have wore a hole in the ground. At least, so he imagined, for the fierce seal her lips formed on the skin of his clavicle, she must have been at least _a little_ impatient.

She’d followed him to his bed, a wolfish grin on her face as he clutched her hand, tugging her along, and he’d never once doubted who the predator in their relationship was. “Lass,” he groaned, feeling the veritable prize buck under her hands. “Esther, sweeting…” His hands groped for purchase, smoothing over and grasping her buttocks, rolling his hips up into her crux, nuzzling her shoulder. For the most part, they were still miraculously clothed, but Rylen was sure as Esther perused his body with her all too earnest hands, greedy little things snaking along his body, looking for straps and buttons and ties, all to be undone, if she had a say. Their boots were the first things to go, falling off the bed with consecutive thuds.

She closed her teeth lightly on his earlobe and then whispered, “Captain, you might not be aware, but the dress code for this little rendezvous…” She slipped a hand down the front of his trousers. “…is much more lax than you have dressed for.” He groaned as he felt her cool palm against his hardened sex and the friction of her callused fingers. There was that grin again, all teeth and confidence and the air of one who has the upper hand at last. He could not help but grin back.

“Well…” He flipped her on her back and pinned her, only to lift up and strip his tunic off. “We’ll just have to remedy that.” Maker, she made him feel young again, the young doe-eyed templar boy fresh from his first vigil. When he lifted the wool over his head, he saw that she was doing the same, her breast-band loose around her bosom. He made quick work of that and dove in to devour her flesh, scraping his teeth over her skin and suckling on one pert nipple as he massaged the other breast.

He canted his hips in time against the bed – green again, no control, but she had that effect on him. Her legs wound around his hips, her ankles tucking into the flesh below his arse. He slithered up her body, running his tongue over her briny skin until his lips were tucked under her ear. He dug his hands in the cover of her breeches and filled his open palms with firm flesh as she combed her fingers through his hair. He listened to the rise and fall of her breath, her exhales coming out in delicious moans, and he pushed her breeches down over her buttocks.

Those were kicked off without another thought to them, and his followed suit. Her hands glided over his chest and wrapped around his neck to tug him back down for a bloodthirsty kiss. She swept her tongue over his lips and he bucked his hips against her thigh, wedging his own between her legs. It came as little surprise to him – even to his delight – when she began to rub her slick over his skin. He tucked his hand between them and slid her clit between two fingers, and she gasped, eyes wide and gazing into his as she released his lips with a smack.

He reveled in the crinkle between her brows, the muddled look that seemed progeny of confusion, concern, disbelief, and the sweetest touch of ecstasy that caused her bottom lip to quiver. He wound his legs up and sat back on his heels, pulling her hips up onto his lap and he worked her, first plying her bud with his fingers, then thrusting his second and third finger into her and working the peaked bundle of nerves with his thumb. He watched her, wholly enraptured with her thrumming body, with her fitful climb, and he wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped as he observed her almost scientifically, calculating, waiting, studying to see if he could guess the telltale signs of her impending climax.

She grasped and clawed at his thighs, hissed and wailed, looked at him with dark hazel eyes and whimpered for mercy, and her only reprieve was when he removed his hand. Relief brought anxiety, need to finish, to be quite thoroughly _had_ , and he only quickened it by rubbing his tip against her, tracing her. She looked as if she was about to have a fit, but it only lasted a moment as he guided his penis in her willing body. He fit himself right down to the base, and she moaned as he stretched her.

“ _Ry_ -len,” came her insistent voice, almost begging, but Esther Trevelyan certainly did _not_ beg, no ser, yet she sounded close to it, and Rylen wondered what it was to hear her beg.

He curled over her and flattened his tongue on the underside of her breast. He looked up at her darkly and smirked. He pulled out a little, but did not take the plunge. “Lass, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what it is you want.” She made a strangled noise.

She glared up at him. “So help me Maker, Rylen, if you don’t-” He nuzzled her belly, and she lost all train of thought. Her head lolled to the side, dizzy on his ministrations. She groaned, and her open eyes focused on him. “Maker, I _want_ you.” Her need was a whine, almost there, but it was too much of a statement. She wriggled her hips along his length, hoping to swallow more, but he slapped her backside and squeezed, eliciting a yelp.

He sat up, and he whispered, “I want to hear you beg, lass. If you want to be fucked, you’ll make your case.” But as soon as he finished speaking, he was thrown on his back and straddled. Because Esther _fucking_ Trevelyan did not beg.

If he wanted, he could have wrestled her away, pinned her beneath him and put her back beneath him, but it would have been unfair, and he wanted them on level playing field. So when she took him in her hand and guided him back in to the embrace of her body, his hands went to her hips and he grinned. “Case made, love.” She chuckled, lower lip tucked beneath her teeth as she clenched around him.

“If you wanted to play that game, you should have come better prepared.” She meant the silk ties she’d found in the little library below the main hall; they’d had no time or mind to fetch those.

He gave a slight shrug. “What can I say? You caught me at an inopportune time.” She slid up and back down, fully seated, and pressed her hands to her breasts, massaging them as he massaged her arse. She repeated the action and again, sliding and kneading herself, and she only grew more slick, washing over him like the tide.

He rolled up into her as his head lolled back, his head lost in the haze of her perfume and the silk, slick feel of her. Her hands came down flat on his chest, and she moaned. Nails bit into his skin and grazed his nipple, and he bucked hard up into her. She lost her balance and fell forward, just like he wanted.

He grinned as he pulled her beneath him. “Esther, sweeting, I love watching you play…” He sheathed himself once more. “…but I did promise you a good fucking, and a good fucking is what I’ll give you.” He captured her lips with his, slanting his mouth over hers and drinking in her heady exhale, drowning in her fragrance, and he tilted his hips into her, pulling her thighs up to cradle his body. He stroked the back of her knee and the hitch in her voice told stories of how he dazzled her, how she craved him to end her.

End her, he would.

He canted as his hand slammed on the headboard with a reverberating slap. He needed leverage – he would fuck her into the bed, would give her no room to desire any other, for as much as she assured him that she would not ever stray again, he still wanted to give her every Maker-blessed reason to keep coming back for more.

They worked, _slaved_ over each other, limbs encasing bodies likes armor, building and burning, caresses coming and going as they only mounted higher and higher. Finally, as Rylen kissed her lips, Esther’s body constricted and her hands – having taken root in his wavy brown hair – yanked him away to look into his eyes. A moon peering through the window kissed her hazel hair tawny, and he saw her eyes flutter shut as she tilted her chin up, baring her throbbing throat to him as she gave into her release. That crease folded until her eyelids squeezed tight and her mouth opened, forming a puckered ellipse as she came. It was that look of near shock that sent him tumbling after her, whispering her name in her ear as he strained against her in a few last feeble thrusts.

He sank down upon her, littering her neck with slow, melting kisses. Her nails, which had been scrabbling against his skin, stroked light caressing lines down his spine.

She nipped at his jaw as he lifted his head to look at her, and he nuzzled his nose against hers. “Satisfied, lass?” She smoothed her palms over his sweat-slicked hair.

“Never,” she chuckled, and Rylen laughed, if only because it was true.


End file.
